"I get it now" Ron told me as I pushed him down the street in our subdivision "I see why you don't want to go out by yourself on the bus anymore."
"Yeah" I agreed. "Especially on a weekend afternoon!"
Our weekend got off to a pretty good start. The people in #19 like to play loud Spanish music, but it wasn't as loud as it could have been. It's just tiresome to hear the bass line for hours every weekend night, and one reason we bought a home. The noisy people are renting, several adults to a 4 bedroom house.
I blame the landlord. I wish landlords had to live next to the houses they rent out. I bet they'd be a lot pickier.
Anyway, I got to sleep around 10 (later than I like, but I got to sleep). I had creepy depression nightmares but a decent quality of sleep. I woke up around 7 with a pretty bad headache. I took some Excedrin and tried to sleep.
I couldn't, of course, due to the caffeine. But, while lying in bed, I realized I had forgotten to buy anything for the potluck tomorrow, after church. I got up, took my shower, and did my God Time. Ron was sleeping. I watched a house flipper show.
Ron finally woke up and we talked about getting something for church tomorrow. "I'd rather leave now" I told Ron "If you're not coming. I don't like to go out on weekend afternoons since my mugging "
He agreed and we left the house around noon. As we approached the subdivision bus stop, I found a glass item. One end was a bubble, about 3/4 inch in diameter, carbonized on the bottom. A glass tube extended a few inches from the "bubble".
I've seen loads of these in the day, usually broken. It's a crack pipe! Right outside my subdivision! I figure the passenger found it in the car and threw it out the window, onto the grass, in anger. Or, even better, someone had a real and powerful encounter with Jesus, and threw away the pipe on their own.
I also saw a huge, dead pit bull (mix?) behind the bus stop. It was very stiff. Thank God it had no odor. Ron called around and left a few messages. The dog must have run out into the street and been hit, then crawled behind the subdivision sign to die. Either that or someone moved it.
Howver, the dog, very large and tan, looked to weigh at least 50 pounds. I am not a fan of dogs. I like cats. I've met some aggressive dogs; I prefer to avoid them.
Oh, that would have been horrible if the dog had been injured and aggresive, with Ron in the wheelchair... yike.
So, we made our transfers and had a pretty good ride to Sam's Club. We rode all over, but they were out of potato salad. OK. We decided to get a combo pack of one ounce chips, like we sell at work, instead.
I did wonder if we'd have problems with people bothering us for chips. Looking back, if I did this again I'd have put the chip box in a trash bag. Instead, Ron held it in his lap.
I went over to Academy sports because I need a new hat. I found one I like, plain, thick, stretchy, and cheap. It was only $3 but is nice and thick. If I were giving a hat to someone in need, I'd pick one of these.
I wanted to get a hot chocolate at Starbucks, but Ron was pretty done for the day. I got him to the bus stop, just in time to catch the bus.
I wish we'd missed it.
One guy on the bus took one look at the box of chips and started making comments about eating them, in a way that indicated he expected Ron to "share". The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful. We got off and went around the corner to the "home" bus.
Ron sat in his wheelchair next to the bus stop, while I sat on the concrete bus bench. An obese young man came over and started talking to Ron. Ron and I have code words. I indicated to Ron this guy was a possible problem. He waved me off right as the guy started aggressively asking for chips.
Ron told him no repeatedly. I told him no repeatedly. He kept asking. "I'm hungry, why won't you help me? I'll pay you!" {If he could pay for chips, he would have bought them from the drugstore across the street}
The guy could see, walk, use both arms and legs. I wanted to ask why he didn't go earn the money to pay for it like we did. I also figured a guy his size could stand to skip a meal. I kept saying "No" and "Leave us alone."
It culminated in the guy standing in front of me as I sat on the bench, lighting a cigarette, and putting it 2 inches from my face. I got up and stood behind Ron. The guy sat on the bench where I'd been, trying to hustle Ron, and then slid over and demanded I sit next to him.
I said "NO". Ron thinks I was a little hostile, but he used to work in San Francisco. It's been my experience that, if you're dumb enough to engage a panhandler, the only things you should say are "No" and "Leave me alone."
The guy got mad because I wouldn't sit next to him, but I ignored him and stared a hole in the drugstore across the street. I didn't want the guy to think he could dominate me. The bus came, and unfortunately the guy got on. He found some guy in the back and started raving about racists.
The funny thing: I really doubt he would have done all this if I were black. I would have told him to leave me alone, and he would have done it. But when I say no I'm a racist, and I don't mean it.
I stood up by the driver as the guy raved in the back (I felt sorry for his victim) and quietly confided the problem to the driver. "He was very aggressive bothering us at the bus stop. I don't want him getting off at our stop and finding out where we live." He said he would take care of it, and he did.
If he had followed us, I would have gone to the park and called the police. I think he was too busy raving at his new victim.
It dawned on me the guy was manic. Unmedicated bipolar.
Ron was pretty upset and lectured me about "Coming on Mama Bear" and "He could have hurt you". I wanted to bonk him and say "You're the one who made conversation with him and started the whole mess!"
I didn't. That's when he made the comment about me staying home.
Yup. Never ride the bus on a weekend afternoon.
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